News:

PD.com forums: a disorganized echo-chamber full of concordian, Greyfaced radical left-wing nutjobs who honestly believe they can take down imaginary Nazis by distributing flyers. They are highly-suspicious of all newcomers and hostile to almost everyone, including themselves. The only thing they don't take seriously is Discordianism.

"Well fuck you. That's not the point. The point is that modding communities will either ban you or just ignore you. Evidently WoW isn't cool enough to import but you need 5 million nude mods and accessories to help you impregnate your socks while playing Skyrim alone in the dark""Well, maybe WoW is just not cool enough for the nerds that play Skyrim?"

"I dunno man. Maybe I should get a better hobby?"

"Like?"

"Hrm..........why am I bitching about this? I'm pissed that I can't come up with a way to contribute to one tribe and that another tribe that should want to help is just unhelpful"

"Well people do suck"

The preceding was Coyote letting minor annoyances spill out of his head.

About nothing. Sorry children and cranky old people. I just don't got anything to rant about. I'm not really angry enough about anything at the moment. I could rant about having to fill out all these bull shit forms to get processed into my reserve unit, but #firstworldproblems maybe.

My gf's cat is fucking annoying, but it's a cat. That would be par for the course.

But wait.....what the fuck?

LISTEN UP SHITFUCKSTAININGCOCKORANGERS!!!!!!!!!!!!

PD ISN'T EVEN FUCKING TV FOR WEIRDOS........

Ahem.

I feel guilty when I browse PD and don't even comment, let alone post anything. The slow downward spiral of PD is depressing.

I AM JUST TYPING SHIT TO TYPE SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Reckoning is an epic, open world role-playing game that gives fans their first experience with Kingdoms of Amalur™, a new universe imagined by R. A. Salvatore, brought to life by Todd McFarlane, and designed by Ken Rolston and his team at Big Huge Games.

I watched their demo video of combat. It's pretty, and cartoony, sort of like WoW. There is a demo coming out tomorrow.

So it's been 2 weeks since I officially ended my contracted active duty time in the Army, and many of you know I was planning on doing ROTC and getting commissioned as an officer. But now I find myself going, "um....wait that is a lot of standing around in boots, not moving and pointless attention to details," and not wanting to go sign up for the sophomore level ROTC classes.

I've weighing all the benefits, money, healthcare, I get to play with military grade weapons, but I fucking hate formations.

I regret to inform you that due to you not filling out blocks 1-12 on the Accordion Form Number 2323, and by that I mean you failed to even submit the form, we will not be able to process your request to complain about Rocks or Rolls. Next time please submit your AF2323 at least 5 working days prior to the event you wish to complain about. In addition, we have received several AF2324's REQUESTING that MORE My Chemical Romance be played, AND several AF445's detailing why they are in fact Rock and Hard.

The Obama administration is wrestling with the thorny question of whether scientists should inject healthy children with the anthrax vaccine to see whether the shots would safely protect them against a bioterrorism attack.

The other option is to wait until an attack happens and then try to gather data from children whose parents agree to inoculate them in the face of an actual threat.

A key working group of federal advisers in September endorsed testing, sparking objections from those who consider that step unethical, unnecessary and dangerous. The National Biodefense Safety Board (NBSB), which advises the federal government, meets Friday to vote on its working group's recommendation.

I am not sure how I feel about this. I've been vaccinated 3 times for it, and it hurt more each booster.

I love the Army in a sick and twisted way. I hate that I love it. I love to hate it.

The Army, she, pisses me off with her horrible supply system and unhelpful nomenclature for various bits of equipment.

I originally joined to do a job I was doing already, but was denied due to my vision. I picked another job that I lost because I can't keep my mouth shut on certain things. I had at the end the choice of truck driver, fueler, infantryman and unit supply. I refuse to be a truck driver because my step-dad is one. I refuse to be a fueler because I would rather not be around that much volatile liquid . I didn't go infantry because my GOOD eye barely qualified me for it and therefore I felt it would be a bad bad bad idea. I was probably wrong. So I picked unit supply, thinking I would be working in a warehouse, which is a totally different job .

I still resent that chain of events because while I messed up a chance, it was really just the pinky finger of the Army going up my ass, and things would be worse. So it would stand to reason I would HATE basic combat training, and I didn't. BCT is easy, my drill sergeants were relatively nice. Bear in mind in the "new" Army NCOs can't lay hands on soldiers, and some cock nozzle screaming in my face isn't going to hurt my feelings. I even let that tiny bit of "soldierization" take place. Of course we were still being taught Vietnam style land tactics.

But it went downhill from there. I went to Advanced Individual Training to be taught my job. This is how fucked up my AIT company was, I looked at my soldier's records today, and my boss's and one of friend's. They all had their regimental affilation listed. I don't. Still. I didn't even know that it was supposed to be on it. In addition to a medal that is supposed to be awarded to all soldiers who served during this particular group of wars. But it gets better. Or worse. I, and my company, got treated worse than I did in BCT. Not abused or anything like that. The apathy of the DSs, commander and 1SG. "Your shit is fucked up but we won't tell you why so you can fix it so you are stuck in the barracks all weekend and by the way I need extra duty detail and even though you aren't fucked up enough for warrant that guess what"

WAAA WAAA. I bet some of you are fucking rolling your eyes and thinking that "hey you fucking signed up, and Army is fucked like that" Well fuck you. Doing work doesn't fucking bother me. Seeing blatant favoritism does and apathy towards the well being of new soldiers is fucking wrong. By the way, tuck your fucking teeth in and don't fucking roll your eyes again.

I am pretty much over that bullshit. I mean it was almost 4 years ago, and it did teach me, as has every other instance where neglect from a superior fucked my shit up, to never leave my soldiers uninformed. BTW did you know that is a line from Creed of the Non-Commissioned Officer? That is three large paragraphs of lip-service that NCOs rote-memorize to pass the promotion board and promptly ignore. Or maybe I am just disgruntled and shit. Well fuck you anyways.

Naturally with my charmed life I didn't go to a company supply room like I should right out of AIT. I went to a battalion S4. I had no fucking clue what that was. No one ever explained that to me. I had a guy who just came back in to the Army after several years and had reclassed and retrained to be supply. With no NCO over us. We had some random master sergeant and some other NCOs but none incharge of our section. We ran ourselves. Even though we had no idea what we were doing. This pretty much continued for the next three years. Of course I did eventually learn what we did, and what we were for and that power point is the fucking devil.

It was because of that lack of supply room time that I refused a waiver offered to me to go the board. Which was the wrong answer. And I still do not know if it was just me that failed myself or my NCOs for not really counseling me.

All you civilians are probably fucking confused.

To boil it down, I was a disgruntled officer worker in a cube, that was trained with and assigned a light machine gun I didn't have a rifle I had machine gun. A fairly small one, but I could take a small group of people or a car out at over 1000 meters with it.

The horribly funny thing is I didn't know all that I knew until I finally got moved into the supply room. Now bear in mind I have been in the same company, at the same duty station for 3 years and 10 months with all but the last 5 or so months in a staff position. I did my job too well, so I became that problem soldier. I suddenly had lots of appointments and was on profile a lot. Everything was legit too . I actually needed all those appointments with behavioral health for stress management. I realize now that most of my stress was caused by still doing the same fucking thing in the same fucking place, just with different people shifting around me. It didn't help that I still had no idea what a lot of supply related things were.

So at that point I was still mad the battalion and the company and the people in charge for fucking with me, and then suddenly chest pains. For a few weeks. Slowly getting worse and worse. An ER trip at 2000 hours later, and somehow the likely root cause slipped out the battalion commander. I guess some people can't keep a secret. And then I got moved. Of course while I was still there I was taking small amounts of revenge, which I will not detail, but you don't piss off your clerk when your clerk is the only one with email access and the only one maintaining the files.

So I get moved down to the supply room, and shit was, and still is, fucked up. But I like it for some reason, especially now that it isn't my problem. Fuck things being disorganized. I'm leaving. I won't break my back setting up a the filing system, but it does motivate me in a twisted way to stay a logistician when I join the Dark Side. The supply system is fucked up. No one should be going "wtf is this" when reading the nomenclature for something. Computer system digital is not very descriptive when there are roughly 30 different items that are some sort of digital computer. And that is just the tip of things being fucked up at the Big Army level.

"But Coyote, the Army is big and bad and is only a tool of the corporations that control the government"Eh, so what? I make roughly 45k a year with a little more than high school. I could make over 80k a year without much more than a high school education (after at least 10 years). I get free medical care. I get the good pills, if I want them. I get to play with shit that people PAY to play with. And by "get to" I mean, I am forced to and get paid to do so. And it gets better if I go to college and sell my soul. And btw I can pretty much study whatever the fuck I want. The Army basically only cares that I got a bachelor's degree. When I get done with college I will have over 7 years in service. I'll be getting roughly 65k a year. All so I can run around being retarded while senior NCOs roll their eyes and try to politely tell me that I am full of shit and to let them do their fucking jobs. Of course everything will be my fault. And I will be fucking broke since I am going into the National Guard for the next 3 years, but I will get drill pay, ROTC stipend and GI Bill money (and won't have to pay for college).

For a while I used to feel bad over how powerless I felt about not being able to tell people to fuck off, and how fucked up things in this country are. I wish I could I fix things all over the country, but I can't.

However, if I make it to being an officer, I can do my best to positively affect the lives those people who still enlist. I might not be able to fix the Army, but I might be able to fix small parts of it.

There it is. You can see it shining miles above you upon the greatest mountain in the world. Who is in that tower? Them, They and To Whom It May Concern. Heartless tyrants all. Guileless scammers. Peddlers of exotic and foul drugs. They got what you needTM.

But not any more.

You woke up this morning, full, and pissed. Their steaming bullshit is not as satisfying as it once was, even though is comes a combo meal with fries and a "small" fountain drink with a chance to win $10000 and frozen lard for life.

So you grabbed a shovel, and a pick-ax, and marched to the foot of the mountain. You looked up, and vertigo seized you.

You lay there vomiting their vile crap up.

You can see other poor souls writhing in agony.

You can see other poor souls using spoons and tack hammers to attack the foot of the mountain, and suddenly you realize you grabbed a teaspoon and tack hammer.

You look over and see your companions in misery laying on their bellies reaching high over their heads scooping tiny bits of mound of dirt.

You look over and see your companions scooping more dirt onto the mound.

You try to stand.

You remember being able to stand, but Their poisons have crippled your body.

You don't think you can get up.

You know if you could just stand up you could kick over their sand castle.

You try to call out, but merely croak.

If only you could scream, maybe someone would help you up, or help themselves.